


Growing Pains

by Tree_Overlord



Category: Newsies (1992)
Genre: Character Death, I'm Sorry, M/M, Post-Strike, Suicidal Thoughts, it's all just really sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-19 22:27:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8226770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tree_Overlord/pseuds/Tree_Overlord
Summary: Jack needs to say goodbye





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> listen to Putting the Dog to Sleep by The Antlers for Extra saddness

There’s electricity in the air tonight. David can practically taste it, can feel it running up and down his arms like spiders. It’s an odd sensation. He isn’t sure if it’s good or bad.  
Jack releases a long stream of smoke into the air. He’s leaning on the fire escape, with the upper half of his body stretched over the railing as far as he can go without falling off. Right now, he reminds David of a painting, all of his colors standing out against a gray sky. If he had any of Jack’s skill with art, this would be the first thing David captured on a canvas.  
“I got a job at a factory,” Jack says suddenly. “I won’t be around as much.” He looks over to David. David swallows.  
“Okay.”  
He doesn’t say anything else, because there’s nothing else he can say. He knew Jack wouldn't be a newsie forever. David wasn’t even selling anymore, he’d been put back in school when his dad’s arm had healed and was now working towards a degree in journalism. Denton had left more of an impact than he had expected.  
“Kloppmann kicked me out of the house,” Jack adds. He puts out his cigarette, grinding the end into the metal of the fire escape. “He’s not allowed to hold kids over eighteen and I can’t pass no more.” David nods. It’s been a long four years.  
“I have room here.”  
He’s lying. He can touch the stove from his bed if he tries hard enough and the heat doesn’t come on half the time in the winter. But if Jack needs a place, David will do what he can.  
“You’re a terrible liar, Davey,” Jack snorts. “Always have been.” He sits down beside David, resting his back against the bars of the railing. “I got somewhere. Tony is letting me stay with him.”  
“Racetrack?” It’s been awhile since David’s heard his name, either one. It seems like just yesterday David was trusting the gambling addict to watch his baby brother.  
“We’re not kids anymore,” Jack says sharply. David looks down, a lump swelling in his throat. He’s sad. Why is he sad?  
“We haven’t been kids for a long time.”  
“Yeah.” Jack laughs, but it sounds watery and forced. “Yeah.”  
“You don’t have a job, do you?” David asks softly.  
“I didn’t want you to worry,” Jack says, and that’s all the answer David needs.  
“I’ll always worry.”  
Jack moves closer to David, leaning his head on David’s shoulder. “There isn’t a life for me, Dave. There’s never going to be. People like me don’t get the happy ending.”  
The two sit like that for a long time. There’s something wet on David’s face and he knows that it’s tears, but he doesn’t move to wipe them away. He doesn’t want to break the spell that’s settled on them because maybe, if he just stays still, they’ll stay like this forever. Maybe Jack won’t leave.  
Jack pulls away.  
“I have to go.”  
David stares at him, trying to memorize the lines of his face, the planes of his body, anything, everything. “Thank you.” Jack nods, and it’s jerky like some hidden puppeteer is forcing him to do it. David’s next words spill out unplanned, but really, the entire night has been unplanned so who can blame him?  
“I love you, Francis Sullivan.”  
Jack sucks in air like he’s just been punched, his eyes squeezing tightly shut. Finally he looks back at David. “I know.”  
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” David asks, and his voice seems small and childlike to him, too high and scared to be coming out of his mouth. “Carryin’ the banner?”  
“Carryin’ the banner,” Jack answers weakly, still remembering the farewell they’d exchanged so many times when they were younger.  
Jack grabs a hold of David’s hand like he wants to say something, but he stays silent instead. He pulls away. “Bye, David.”  
David watches Jack’s retreating form and wishes he’d been brave enough to say what he wanted when it would've made a difference.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack almost doesn’t go to Davey’s. The idea of seeing him for the last time is almost too much to bear, but he knows David would never forgive him if he didn't turn up, so he goes. He can’t bring himself to look at David though. He stares out across the city instead, stretching out towards it. The railing of the fire escape keeps him from falling and Jack can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing.  
His cigarette smoke curls up in lazy spirals and Jack takes a long drag, blowing out a stream of smoke that seems far less poetic. Against the backdrop of the city, it looks bleak and gray, like a fading ghost in a world of hard lines and nonconformities. It’s fitting, in a way.  
The words Jack needs to say are burning in the back of his mind, threatening to spill off of his tongue. I’m leaving, Davey. Forever. But those seem too coarse, so instead Jack says, “I got a job at a factory.” There. That’s a little better. “I won’t be around as much.” Jack is finally able to look at David, to try to see his reaction. He just looks blank.  
“Okay.”  
David doesn’t care. And if he does, he shouldn’t. He’s making a name for himself, really doing something in the world. Not like Jack. Davey has always been better than Jack.  
“Kloppmann kicked me out,” Jack says and he instantly kicks himself. He grinds the end of his cigarette into the metal of the fire escape angrily. He’d been locked out of the house months ago. Kloppmann had pressed a quarter into Jack’s hand and told him to go make something of himself. Jack had spent the money on cigarettes and food because he was nothing and he’d always be nothing. But Davey doesn’t need to know that. “He’s not allowed to hold kids over eighteen and I can’t pass no more.” There. An obvious explanation to soften the blow a little bit.  
Davey offers his place and Jack has to keep himself from shouting. Can’t Davey see he doesn’t deserve that? Why is he making this so much harder than it has to be?  
Instead, Jack laughs at him. “You’re a terrible liar, Davey. Always have been.” He lets himself sit down next to Davey, be a little closer to the most important person in his life. He wracks his brain for an excuse to stay away from Dave. He almost says he’s staying with Crutchie because if he had a choice that who he’d be staying with, but no, Jack had come to David last month unable to speak because he had been taken into an institution after a breakdown in the middle of a street. Jack almost hoped Crutchie was dead, just so he wouldn’t have to face the tortures of the asylum.  
Jack settles on Tony because David didn’t hear that the gambler had taken a dive off the Brooklyn bridge shortly after Spot Conlon had been found dead. David’s head tilts in slight confusion at the name, like he’s trying to place it.  
“Racetrack?”  
The name shoots Jack through. Racetrack stopped being Racetrack years ago, when the gambling debts had become too much and Tony had to take up a new name so no one could find him. Racetrack was a pipe dream now.  
“We’re not kids anymore,” Jack snaps, his voice coming out harsher than he intended. Davey’s chin tucks into his neck, the way it does whenever he’s real upset. And it’s all Jack’s fault.  
“We haven’t been kids for a long time.”  
“Yeah.” Jack forces himself to laugh because if he doesn’t he’ll sob and he doesn’t want to upset Davey more than he already has. “Yeah.”  
“You don’t have a job, do you?” David knows. David always knows. Jack doesn’t know why he even bothered to try to hide anything from him.  
“I didn’t want you to worry,” Jack says. He can’t bring himself to say anymore.  
“I’ll always worry.”  
David is too good for Jack. He’s everything Jack can never be. Jack moves closer to David, leaning on him, trying to make him understand so he doesn’t fall apart after Jack’s gone. The way Jack’s fallen apart after everyone else. “There isn’t a life for me, Dave. There’s never going to be. People like me don’t get the happy ending.”  
Jack buries his face in Davey’s shoulder, not wanting to see how his words affected him. Something wet hits Jack’s face and Jack’s breath catches in his throat. He made David cry. What was wrong with him?   
Jack pulls away from David. He’s spent too long using David for his own selfish needs. He has to let him live his own life. “I have to go.”  
David’s eyes are watery and his gaze flicks up and down Jack. “Thank you,” he croaks out. Jack doesn’t know what he’s being thanked for. It was probably sheer luck that Jack hadn’t ruined David’s life. He nods sharply, unsure of how else to respond. David’s next words make Jack’s heart stop.  
“I love you, Francis Sullivan.”  
Jack closes his eyes tightly, wishing he could disappear. Apparently he’d thought too soon. He’d taken something important and irreplaceable from David.   
“I know,” he finally says, because there’s nothing else he can say.  
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” David asks. “Carryin’ the banner?”  
Jack can do this at least. “Carryin’ the banner.” He grabs David hand and he wants to say something about how David’s made his life a little better, he wishes he could give David half of what David’s given to Jack, he loves David too. None of the words come out. “Bye, David.”  
He walks down the fire escape and towards the end of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> hey hmu on tumblr @ tiredtree for more newsies nonsense


End file.
